How to Save a Life
by therandlehandle
Summary: Steve is slipping away and there is only one person who can help him. But can that person get to him before it's too late?
1. Warning

This is a story about the relationship between Steve Randle and Sodapop Curtis, but it is also a story about depression. Therefore, there will be triggering situations such as:

Self Harm

Attempted Suicide

Talking About Suicide

Abuse

Panic and Anxiety Attacks

Having said that, proceed with caution. If you can't handle the content, please do not read this.

If you can handle it, go ahead and read.


	2. One

"You're worthless."

His father's words echoed in his mind. He was usually pretty good at blocking out the horrid things the man would say, but for some reason, he had become bad at it now. He couldn't ignore the abuse that was hurled at him on a daily basis. How could he? He lived with it.

Steve Randle wasn't weak. He was far from weak, but he was at his breaking point. However, he had a reputation of showing no emotions or signs of weakness. He planned to keep the façade up as long as he could. Deep down inside, he hoped that someone would notice he wasn't himself anymore.

Steve swept up the broken glass from his father's most recent drunken rampage. They were getting worse and worse each time, and he knew he should leave once and for all. He couldn't bring himself to do it, though. He cared too much. See, that was his problem. He cared too much about his dad to abandon him. He would suffer through the endless beatings and put on a smile afterwards, which led everyone to believe that he was okay. He never complained about his father. He wouldn't ever mention him willingly, either.

He could talk to his boyfriend, Sodapop Curtis, about anything. He usually did, too. The only thing he refused to talk about was his father.

Sodapop knew that something was going on with Steve and his father, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't mention it. He didn't want to risk losing the man he loved. He had a feeling that Steve was getting hit at home, but he couldn't do anything about it.

He might have been dumb, but he was not oblivious. He noticed things that others didn't. He noticed the way Steve would limp in the door after a fight with his dad. He noticed the bruises on Steve's pale skin, that were never in the same place twice. He noticed the dark purple marks on Steve's wrists, presumably from his father. He also noticed that the fire that flickered in Steve's eyes, the burning rage for the world, wasn't so strong anymore. It seemed as if the flames would go out soon.

Steve cleaned the gash on his face, wincing slightly from the faint stinging of the peroxide. He disliked his dad. He wanted to hate him more than anything in the world. He couldn't because he cared too much.

He had been feeling low lately and didn't exactly understand why. It had been a little harder to get out of bed in the mornings. He felt like everything would be okay if he just didn't get up. He knew the truth, though. The horrible truth that he had to get up everyday and face the same problems all over again. His only escape was his boyfriend. Right now, he needed that escape.

Soda had been waiting for Steve, knowing that he was bound to come over anytime now. A frown fell upon his mouth the moment he saw the cut on Steve's cheek.

A sigh slipped through Steve's lips as he recognized the look of concern in Soda's eyes. "Hey," he said, clearing his throat.

Soda stared at him, trying to size him up. "What happened to your face?"

"Oh. I, uh… I fell."

"Again?" He raised his eyebrows. He had heard that excuse at least a hundred times.

"Yeah…" Steve rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm clumsy."

That was a lie and Soda knew it. He didn't press further. "Ya have to be more careful, babe. You're gonna get seriously hurt one of these days."

"I know…" Steve hung his head.

"C'mere. You owe me a hug for skipping breakfast."

His eyes widened. "We were supposed to have breakfast together?"

Soda nodded.

"God, Soda. I'm sorry. I've been distracted lately. I— ugh, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "It's quite alright. Now, give me a hug."

Steve walked over and hugged him tightly, leaning his head against Soda's chest.

Soda rested his chin on top of Steve's head, hugging back. "You would tell me if something drastic changes, right?"

Steve nodded. Another lie. He knew he wouldn't.

Soda knew it too, and it killed him inside.


End file.
